


Piece by Piece

by EntreNous



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, Spanking, Underage Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-08
Updated: 2004-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-26 11:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EntreNous/pseuds/EntreNous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After "The Pack" Xander wants to set things right with Giles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Piece by Piece

“Look, I’ve worked it all out, okay? This is the only way.”

Giles shook his head quickly then realized that the young man who was bent over his knees, head and toes dangling off on either end, couldn’t see his expression. So after opening and closing his mouth twice, he finally spoke.

“I rather think not. It was a foolish idea to begin with.”

“Come on!” Xander said in an irritated voice. “Don’t be so squeamish.” He wriggled a little in Giles’ lap.

Giles stood abruptly, spilling Xander to the floor.

“Ow,” Xander said predictably, scowling.

“I’m not quite sure where you came up with the idea that having me spank you would compensate for what happened with the spell.”

“It was more that I thought you could take a good shot at me,” Xander said, making a gesture of fisticuffs from his position on the floor. “But you didn’t like that idea.”

“I like this one less,” Giles said, pacing to the circulation desk and gripping the counter.

“Oz felt better after he punched me,” Xander assured him, sitting up into a cross-legged position. “And I don’t want oddness between us.”

“Xander, do you even understand why I would be unhappy with your conduct of the other day? Do you realize what sorts of risks you took with people around you? How you made people act, heedless of their own welfare or yours?”

Xander looked abashed, glancing quickly up at Giles before turning his gaze to the floor. “Yeah, well, I didn’t know it would go so far.”

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and screwed his eyes shut. “No. I suppose you didn’t.”

“I bet you never messed up like me when you were in high school,” Xander offered as he stood up.

Giles opened his eyes wide then and let out a short bark of laughter. Xander seemed relieved, smiling tentatively as Giles spoke again. “I should think that I’ve done far worse.”

Scratching a little behind his neck, Xander rocked back and forth on his heels, his smile widening. “Like what?”

“Some other time, perhaps.” Giles sighed and moved behind the counter. “Best be getting off to class, then.”

He hefted a few of the volumes in the return bin, moving them towards the hold shelves. But when he straightened up, Xander remained there, staring at him with dark eyes.

“Not going to class?” Giles inquired.

“No class to go to,” Xander said. He jumped up to sit on the counter, facing away so that Giles saw him in profile. “Classes are over.”

“I imagine you’ll want to go home.” Giles knew he should turn around, go into his office, and wait until Xander tired of doing whatever it was he was doing. Looking at Giles, as though he expected something from him . . . punishment? Absolution? But Xander swung his legs around and hopped off the counter to the side where Giles stood clenching and unclenching his fists.

“I can’t want . . . I won’t punish you like a small child,” Giles began.

“Then don’t think of it as punishment,” Xander said slowly. “Just . . . do it for me then. Because it’ll make me feel better. Okay?”

“This is -- ”

“Giles, quit saying this is ridiculous or foolish. Now come on.”

Xander turned and headed for Giles’ office, and Giles dumbly followed him. Once inside, Xander shut the door and began to take off his clothes, first unbuttoning his outer shirt, then slipping out of his shoes and khakis until he stood in his socks, boxers, and t-shirt. “Easier,” he said simply.

“Why --?” Giles asked then stopped.

“You know I don’t have guy friends. Not since . . . I just don’t.”

Giles leaned back against his desk, his arms folded over his chest. He nodded.

“You and Oz are pretty much . . . And I need,” Xander paused. “I need you to do this.” He turned away for a moment, waiting.

“Alright,” Giles agreed, and Xander turned swiftly back, apprehension and relief both flitting over his face in rapid succession. “Are the doors locked?”

“We already checked that, remember? When we started . . . ”

“Yes, of course.” Giles eased onto a chair and gestured.

“Right,” Xander breathed. “Get it over with.”

“Yes.”

Giles decided not to think about what this meant any longer as Xander approached and deliberately laid himself across Giles’ lap. He brought his hand to hover over Xander’s backside, a voice in the back of his head noting with clinical observation that at least the boxers the boy wore were rather plain, striped blue. Relatively anonymous. Nothing too garish or juvenile.

But the body supported across his legs was hardly anonymous. Giles knew this body’s lines and contours by heart. That meant little . . . the business of patching each other up after nights of fighting together had made him familiar with the quirks and marks that each of them had, but he knew them all piece by piece, exposed partially for treatment and soothing.

What startled him is that somehow before this moment he’d already put Xander’s pieces together to form this . . . this whole. He’d pictured something like this already, laid out before him as it was now. When he realized he was lowering his hand almost reverently, he cleared his throat and withdrew, keeping his palm poised at some distance.

A beat passed, maybe two.

“Okay,” Xander whispered, and Giles brought his hand down hard.


End file.
